Dark Ridges of the Mind
by I.C. Fire
Summary: The Potions Master needs to try to erase a memory before it destroys him. The Muggle Studies Professor has a problem with teaching, and it has nothing to do with her subject but some scars cut deeper than the skin.
1. Fear

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I.C. Fire In Crisis!

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I have one slight problem! I was uploading chapter two and this stupid thing happened. MY PC DID SOMETHING DUMB AND DELETED EVERYTHING! I haven't got the first chapter anywhere! Now what I will do is re-write chapter one as fast as I can... I hope you can bare with me on this glitch, it wasn't my intension to have this kinda... umm... back fire on uploading. So All I can say is if any of you lovely people saved it anywhere when reading it first time could you send me a copy? That sounds really strange doesn't it... Anyway I don't think you really need chapter one to read chapter two so please do go ahead and read and review though I think I just made a complete prick of myself... am I right? Yeah I thought so too... Anyway, please if you can help please do but if you decide to go on don't forget to review...

*cries in the corner* 

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HELP ME!

I.C. Fire

silver_shadow54@hotmail.com


	2. Never Lifted Echo

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Disclaimer: Okay then.. yet again none of the characters belong to me, I'm only borrowing them, well all but one. I beg you don't sue me I can't afford it!

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Author's Note: Okay then, due to popular demand I got a beta reader... Thanks Sabbrielle! Well she's not checked the grammar on my author's notes... I'll just have to accept I can't do grammar and that's that. Never mind. I think I'll get over it. Anyway please, please, please don't forget to review... I live for then and when people forget I get very sad and lose my will to write anymore *hears the crowd cheer at that remark and runs off crying*

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There is desperation when the soul cannot wake...

Never Lifted Echo

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They say temptation will destroy our love.

The never-ending hunger.

But I fear I have nothing left to give.

I have so much to lose here in this lonely place tangled up in our embrace.

There's nothing I'd like better than to fall.

But I fear I have nothing to give.

I have so much to lose.

I have nothing to give.

We have so much to lose... 

("Fear," by Sarah MacLachlan)

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She closed her eyes.

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"Open your eyes to the warmth, the light, not everything is dark outside."

Parched...Thirst for that unknown.

"I knew of this before."

Sanctuary from those who would steal your heart...Bruised.

"Then why didn't you go to it?"

Because nothing is ever what you think...Lightning never strikes twice.

"The world isn't perfect, the light has hidden darkness, you'll learn this."

Beyond your thoughts...Elysium.

"But people seek perfection, isn't that what this is about?"

Resting...Leave me be.

"Perfection only exists within the most simple of beings."

Ragged though space and time...Burning again.

"My thoughts are yours. They are simple enough."

Beyond the light...Darkness.

"But are you perfect?"

Spirit past fire...Scorched.

"Nothing is perfect."

Upon parting we see truth…Clouds.

"Exactly."

Fading again...Omnipotent.

"Nothing to do but give in."

Drifting into nothingness...Going again.

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"Is this what you fear?"

Take me away again...Nothing left.

"Now more than ever."

Nothing left...Gone again.

"Embrace what you see, for that is all that will remain."

And it ends...Nothing more.

Passion, lust, anger growing...Thrust.

::~::~::

"I see you've developed a spine Miss Latchman," he hummed. "Or are you just in one of your funny moods again?" he continued, a smirk creeping up his face. She lowered her gaze.

"I'm finished in here," she said shortly. "Now you can stay and admire the view if you wish but I am going to the Great Hall to get away from you, or as far away as I can get," she blurted out, pushing past him.

"I see, so this is my fault, is it?" He asked, sitting back on her desk.

"It's no one's fault, Snape, I just don't want to be around you," she said, looking at him, and having a sudden flash back in her mind, she grinned. "Bad boy," she whispered huskily, looking at his arm, and all of a sudden Severus was moving his arm in a very strange manner. He almost looked cold. "Everything okay, Professor Snape?" She chuckled, and walked out of the office. He got up and rubbed his arm vigorously, trying to get some warmth back into it.

"What did you just do?" He inquired, walking along behind her and looking at his arm in a very perplexed manner.

"Oh...you'll see," she hummed, walking down the steps and heading to the Great Hall.

"I don't trust you," he said, still looking at his right arm like it was detached from his body.

"I may still wear a scar as a reminder of how much of a fool I had been, but I don't think I'm the only one who hasn't let the memory die." He furrowed his brow as she walked along at more of a jaunt.

"It's a bit difficult when you were drawn on in permanent ink," he muttered. She laughed. "My hair grew so I was able to get rid of that, but you...clearly you don't wash enough to get rid of the scars of the past," she looked back at him. "That tattoo on your left arm, I don't think you want to keep that there unless you want to end up in Azkaban and lose every ounce of trust or friendship you have built here. I never understood what it was, until a few years ago when doing a little more studying into the Dark Arts."

"That was a long time ago, Miss Latchman, and I know where my true colours lie--even if very few people can see it," he opened the door to the Great Hall, eyeing her venomously. She smiled innocently.

"Where should I sit?" She asked him. He pointed to the opposite side of the table from him, and she smiled again. "Well now, it's been nice to see you again, anyway." She laughed at the expression on his face.

"The feeling is not mutual," he snorted.

"Didn't you note the sarcasm in my tone, or are you too busy admiring the view again?" He shook his head, as if she were some foolish little girl again. She closed her eyes, sighed, and walked to the other side of the room.

She took a seat between Professors McGonagall and Sprout. McGonagall was still, however, a little weary of her after having discovered her partaking in a little self-mutilation. Not that that wasn't enough to ruin anybody's day.

"Um, I don't quite know how to say this, Professor McGonagall, so here goes:" Hizenfli started, "I'm very sorry you had to walk in on my little psychotic episode…I'm not sure what came over me." She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, awaiting Minerva's reply. Having just finished reading out all the names for the sorting, McGonagall looked at Hizenfli in confusion. It appeared she had forgotten, talk about bringing back bad memories...

"The...oh that..." she said, looking down Hizenfli's right cheek, "That healed rather well, I think," she said, and shuddered at the memory of the bloody gash down the seventeen-year-old's face.

"Well, it could be completely gone, should I'd have let it, but it's a reminder of something I don't plan to do again. It's been five years now, and I think I've learnt my lesson." She looked towards Severus, who was watching her like a rather angry hawk. "But there are lessons that I don't plan to forget, if you see what I'm saying." McGonagall nodded.

"So you're here to teach Muggle Studies. How do you feel about that?" the professor asked, trying to change the subject.

"Well, it's certainly going to be interesting." Hizenfli glanced around the hall. It was exactly as she remembered it; only she wasn't sitting at the Slytherin table this time, she was a member of the staff. She wasn't sure, however, if it was going to be fun or not... it didn't strike her as something she could judge, _not yet._

She removed her small rectangular glasses and rubbed them with the cuff of her robes. Looking around the hall, her misty brown eyes were only able to pick up a few things without them, but one thing stuck in her mind: a boy sitting at one end of the Gryffindor table. He was tall, definitely a seventh year. She could tell from the way he was sitting, and the only thing that stood out above all the others was the fact that, like the smaller boy on the train, he had flaming red hair. She realized she had been looking a little too long when she could just about make out his features facing her. She put on her glasses and, narrowing her eyes, gave him a blazing gaze that made him look the other way. _What was she _doing_?_

Being near McGonagall, she was close to the head of the Gryffindor table and could make out a few of the things they were saying. Her hearing made up for some of her missing sight, and as to be expected from a group of seventeen-year-old boys, the topic of conversation was derogatory and vulgar. 

She could make out comments like, "Oy! Charlie, I think that teacher fancies you!"

And; "Not bad!" "Hey Charlie, aren't you in for a treat?" "Yeah, I think she teaches Muggle Studies! We have that first thing tomorrow!" 

Hizenfli rubbed her temples, _what was she playing at?_

"Oh shut up, will you, she's a teacher for God's sake,"the boy responded, before looking back at her. McGonagall looked at her oddly, and Hizenfli gave her a quizzical look.

"Is there a problem, Professor?" She asked. McGonagall smiled.

"You are a Professor here, too, you know, Hizenfli, you can call me Minerva. I won't bite you," she said lightly.

"Oh...that, um...certainly Minerva," she said in an uneasy tone. "Is there a problem…Minerva?" Hizenfli revised. Minerva gave her a concerned look.

"No," she said, looking back at the group of boys sitting at the top of the Gryffindor table. Clearly the choice of topic had changed. Hizenfli went back to eating her cherry pie and ice cream before McGonagall could continue the conversation; it was embarrassing enough even before someone had picked up on it. 

She looked across to Snape, who was now talking quietly to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. The look on his face was most menacing. Even Hizenfli, who possessed, or had possessed, a rather…rose-tinted view of him (a perspective that very few had ever experienced), could remember how unpleasantly adamant he had been about wanting that job. He looked back at her again, being sure to maintain hostile body language with her. So she had broken away from him when she thought she wanted to be with no one else, but then she had had to get out, have a life...and that was something he could never give her. That, and she had only once had a chance to see past the Severus Snape she loathed so much. Right now he was playing the scorched card, _touch me and burn_. She could see past her child-like behaviour of the past and actually see how that was rather attractive. 

She got up and excused herself from the hall. This was the one thing that had worried her. She had gotten over fantasizing about him years ago... 

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He knocked on the door where he had last heard it slam shut. He opened it and stepped in. There were silent, muffled sobs from within the room.

"Hizenfli?" He called. The sobs stopped as she turned to face him. She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled at him.

"I'm going to miss you," she said, her voice dry.

"Why?" He said, his voice warm.

"Because I have to leave here-- further my education, expand my horizons--and because I think, in a way, I've grown attached to you." They both gave a small laugh. "And now I know this: I don't want to leave."

"Then stay?" He wondered, would she?

"At Hogwarts? Don't be ludicrous," she said coldly.

"I know. But I will miss you as well. You seem to understand a lot more than you let me know, and you confuse me. I like it," he said, walking up to her. "We're going to have to stop this the moment we go back to the Great Hall, you know," he said, kissing her passionately for the last time. She sighed, returning the kiss with furious intensity, exploring his mouth for the last time. Her arms were wrapped around him tightly, wanting to feel him close to her one last time. Feeling complete for the first time, yet having to leave, she didn't want to let go. But she knew she had to, it wouldn't work and she had to grow up a bit before she could made any rash decisions, she knew that.

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She thought as she walked back up to her office. Why was she being so... she was acting like a twenty-two-year-old with the control of a lemming on Alco-pops. She was looking at students in a manner not befitting of a teacher. Why couldn't she stop herself? Was part of Severus rubbing off on her? She was pretty sure he knew pumping students was just not done.

She set up her office for the rest of the evening in a manner she liked. She arranged her books on the shelves; most of the books were on Muggle history, law, and psychology because she believed these were some of the most interesting points about the human race. She hadn't just stopped her education at seventeen, when Hogwarts sent out its alumni to the world of work, but managed to talk her way into a Muggle university in order to study English law. Even if she couldn't see herself becoming a lawyer, or anything important in the Muggle world, much to the disappointment of her mother. She had always told Hizenfli to take her head out of the clouds and move back into the real world.

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"Magic will get you nowhere!" she had always said. However, Hizenfli, like most young people, had different ideas aside from the fact she needed to learn to control the magic she possessed, rather than end up looking an idiot. Her father had been the one telling her she must go to Hogwarts, and she always agreed with her father on the basis he usually wanted her to do the same as she wanted, anyway.

She stopped and looked in the mirror, taking off her glasses as she did so. Her hair was a mess, again, but then again it had never been like silk, apart from when the potion had made her beautiful. Now that she thought about it, she had changed with age. The antidote had kept her teeth straight, too. Now she wasn't exactly the plain old boring Hizenfli Latchman that she had clung to so desperately when she was seventeen. She was, in a way, attractive. Her face had developed a little bit of a glow and her hair, aside from being tangled, looked just right, complimenting her face and her misty brown eyes. She ran her fingers down the right cheek, over the indentation that ran from her eye line to her neck. It was only visible at a very close proximity, but she didn't need her eyes-nor, even, her fingers-to tell that it was still there. There was a knock at the door. She turned sharply to face it, moving away from the mirror.

"Who is it?" She asked, taking the seat behind her desk. The door handle turned slowly. She looked to the ground. As she was able to see an almost-floor-length black hem sweeping the floor swiftly, she looked up from the bulled black shoes, up the tall lean body, past the neatly kept black robes to the well-defined face. "What do you want?" She grumbled, looking into his hollow black eyes.

"I have been instructed to show you to the staff quarters; you do have to sleep, you know." She looked about her office.

"Where are they? I mean, we all know where you stay... The dungeons are probably not to many people's tastes, and I expect they were glad to have you out of their sight, Snape," she said coldly.

"Before we go any further, Miss Latchman, my name is Severus; you are a member of the staff and will address me accordingly. If you must call me Snape, then I would appreciate you placing Professor in front of it," he said shortly. She gave him a stern look.

"Then you will call me Hizenfli instead of trying to drive me crazy by oozing my name like some kind of slithering reptile."

"Very well, Hizenfli, now that we understand each other, I do hope you will not persist with this rather childish behaviour you have started. I'm growing tired of it already and you have only been here about eight hours."

"I don't think I'm the one that needs to grow up." She pointed to the seat in front of her like he was some kind of misbehaving pupil.

"You were the one that left in pursuit of a life and look where you are now! Back where you started! Strange how things go full circle, isn't it?" He said sharply, entirely disregarding the chair.

"Well, I knew one thing when I was seventeen, and that was that I could never have stayed here at that point in time." He eyed her suspiciously.

"Didn't those last few days mean anything to you?" He asked calmly.

"Anything? Yes, they taught me love is blind. The only thing I now know is that it doesn't direct itself in the right path, so you have to keep looking. Besides, we never knew each other long enough to be that serious, and you, look at you, the same as you always were: a despicable bastard with zero tolerance." He sneered as she continued. "I will say one thing now that I said then: you're not a monster, but you'd like people to think you are in order to keep them away from you. I know that now, I see why you are the way you are-" her eyes strayed to his left forearm, safely sheathed in black cloth "-but it doesn't excuse a thing."

"A strange analogy there, Hizenfli. Love is blind, but how does it know the way? In truth, I don't think it does." 

She took a deep breath. She could feel his powerful aura again. It was like seeing colours. She took her glasses off to polish them self-consciously. She could feel his presence, like it was scorching her spirit. She sighed.

"Funny how things don't end up the way you want them to, isn't it?" His expression softened, but mainly because he knew she couldn't see him. "I would have given anything at that point in my life to stay with you, even if I didn't know what you were really like, did you know that?" He shook his head. "I don't think that would have been a wise decision, and I believe you made the right choice. It would never have worked, only I never saw it then," he said, looking away from her and biting his lip.

"Well, I think that's enough of this kind of talk. All I can see is visions of myself in the room, trying to cut my face up because I didn't want to be attractive. I would have succeeded, as well, if it hadn't been for you," she said, slowly placing her glasses back on. "The tall, dark, and sinister man with eyes to consume the soul. You were there to tempt me, and I allowed you to do it, anything to keep you near me. And then it stopped, the infatuation born of lust. I believe that was all I ever felt." She looked at him darkly. "I wear the scar to remind me that nothing is as it seems. You were one of those things."

"Do you want me to show you where you have to stay, or are you going to keep talking?" He inquired, narrowing his eyes to let absolutely no emotion past but malice. She returned from her dreamy state.

"Very well," she said, getting out of her seat and following him from the office, being sure to lock it behind her.

He walked slowly along the corridor and down the stairs to a section of the castle that she had never seen before. He guided her along a corridor that didn't seem to want to end, until they came to another room. Upon opening the door, she saw a large and comfortable-looking room, where she could only assume the staff mingled as, she imagined, the students did in their common rooms. Most of the students, of course, but not her. Never Hizenfli Latchman, the muggle-born who never should have been made a Slytherin.

"We often sit about here for a while, however, some of us just go straight to bed. Every now and again you'll be asked to wander 'round the school to check that none of the students are trying to sneak about after hours. Otherwise, you'll be able to do as you choose. Your room is down that corridor at the end. It isn't like school…you have your own room, and, well...you can do as you wish in there, provided you don't get caught," he said calmly.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you," she said icily. He raised an eyebrow.

"Good night, Hizenfli," he said, before leaving the room and heading toward his own quarters.

She walked along the corridor into a warm and welcoming room, thinking,_ school tomorrow, how drab. _She got ready for bed and went to sleep trying to think why she had come back. She already had visions enough to haunt her for the rest of her life.

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What are you thinking off Miss Latchman?

"Visions that haunt my past, I can't escape."

Then keep running, if you haven't the courage to face them.

"I'm good at running."

Then keep going, but it will catch you eventually.

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Severus Snape sat in his chambers, haunted by memories past, trying to escape them. Thanks to her, that wasn't going to happen. He had been foolish at twenty-five, desperate to believe someone could love him. Desperate to believe he had something more than the sexual appeal of a doorknob. He held his head in his hands; did he owe her an apology? Was what he had done so bad_? Of course it was!_ he'd snap at himself. She was young, innocent, unknowing, and in a way it was like the blind leading the blind.

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All the fear has left me now.

I'm not frightened anymore.

It's my heart that pounds beneath my flesh.

It's my mouth that pushes out this breath.

And if I shed a tear I won't cage it.

I won't fear love.

And if I feel a rage I won't deny it.

I won't fear love.

("Fumbling Towards Ecstasy," by Sarah MacLachlan.)

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She awoke early in the morning, her heart racing. The alarm was going with the pace of her heartbeat, and she was unable to believe it was still going off. She reached out a hand to switch it off, but it stopped...she considered going back to sleep, but as soon as she tried to get comfortable again the clock started going off again. She wasn't used to the magical clocks at Hogwarts - she'd forgotten that there was just no escaping them. She got out of bed in a short-tempered fashion and threw her clothes on. Heading to the Great Hall, her head was fogged up and she wasn't sure where she was going.

She trudged along the corridors, fumbling to tie her hair back. Suddenly, something bumped into her and she fell back to the ground with a bump.

"Of all the idiotic-" she stopped and looked up angrily, but stopped.

"I'm sorry, Professor," the boy said, offering a hand to help her up.

"I...I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. It was my fault," she said, seeing the same young man she had seen looking rather embarrassed at the end of the Gryffindor table.

"Er... Are you okay?" He asked politely. She smiled, feeling her cheeks flush.

"Fine," she said shortly, rushing off in the other direction. He watched after her, rather amused as the teacher then proceeded to walk into several other people, the last one being Professor Snape.

"Do watch where you're going Hizenfli!" He snapped. She let out a timid squeak. "Where are you going, anyway? The Great Hall is that way," he said, exasperation making his voice ugly.

"Umm... Yes I knew that... I was..." she dropped off in confusion. He turned her around.

"This way," he said in an annoyed tone of voice. Charlie chuckled as he went into the Great Hall; he was beginning to think that his peers had been correct. "Are you out to embarrass yourself on your first day, Miss Latchman?"

"I told you not to call me that!" She snapped, walking off to her seat. There was something wrong with her, and from what Severus could see, it wasn't good.

"Foolish girl," he muttered, not for the last time, and took his seat.

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Author's Note: I still don't know why I'm writing this... it annoys me, does anyone have any suggestions as to what could happen, I mean I know what will hapen but I need all the help I can get. Anyway please don't forget to review... I love reviews you see.

I.C. Fire

silver_shadow54@hotmail.com


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